


Molly

by Andre_Anders99



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-16
Updated: 2021-03-12
Packaged: 2021-03-18 21:00:19
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Underage
Chapters: 3
Words: 6,926
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29496198
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Andre_Anders99/pseuds/Andre_Anders99
Summary: Before she was a Weasley, she was a Prewett.





	1. An Odd Thing

Death is an odd thing, don't you think? It is feared by so many of us yet welcomed by all others. And what exactly is death? Sure one will stop breathing and speaking, but do they stop thinking as well? Perhaps all of their existence is snuffed out like a flame, leaving only wisps of smoke and our memories of them to remain. Or maybe life goes on in some distant utopia that is a reality we cannot fathom in its entirety.

Molly Prewett often thought of death these days. She is only fifteen, but she wonders how and when it will happen for her. Will she be alone? Would a single soul remember her? Truly remember her? No one remembered her mother; Lucretia Prewett was no more than Ignatius's late wife. They did not know what she loved or how she felt about anything. Her mum loved Hyacinths and violets; she would bake lemon cakes every summer and chocolate tarts for her children's birthdays. During holidays she would knit caps and scarfs, and after dinner every night, Ignatius would ask Lucretia to dance. She was so many things, so many wonderful things. Yet, she was laid to rest beneath a stone that coldly named her Wife, Mother & Friend. How touching?

When people tell Molly they are sorry for her loss, it angers her. How can they be sorry for something they do not understand? She is completely alone. It all fell to her after mum died; the funeral, the boys, the household. Dad has become a shell of a man, and he has no idea what is going on around him as he has caved in to his grief. Then there is Gideon and Fabian, her big brothers, and they dealt with their pain differently than she did. Their way of coping had them limping to her every day for potions and healing spells. What seems to bring them relief only adds to her grief, but so long as her brothers are well, she will be fine. 

The compartment door slides open with a bang, making Molly jump in her seat. She clasps her hands over her chest, gasping, her head whipping round to see who has come in during her musings. A girl leaning against the doorframe smiles wide, her lips painted a deep red and her head tilted just so. Black curls frame the girls face, and a familiar blonde streak makes Molly calmer instantly.

"Hello, Love." She drawls.

Molly grins and leaps to her feet, "Bella!" She pulls her best friend into a tight embrace. "I missed you!"

Bellatrix returns Molly's hug, patting the girl's hair. "I missed you, too, Mol."

It had been a whole summer since the two had parted ways, and Molly had been craving her return to Hogwarts so they may be reunited again.

When the two pull away from each other, Bellatrix takes Molly's hands in her own.

"How are you fairing?" Bellatrix smiles grimly. 

Molly flinches, the wounds of her mother's death early in the summer still fresh and tender on her heart.

"I'm fine." Molly musters. This was how she dealt with the pain; I'm Fine, I'm Okay. If I say it enough, maybe eventually it will be true, because right now I am anything but.

Bellatrix's eyes bore into her own, searching for lies she supposes. And while Molly has plenty, she hopes that Bella can see she will not let them break her.

"Alright." Bellatrix nods, dismissing the topic for a moment when Molly wishes to speak of it.

They sit down in the compartment, sprawling across the empty seats. The pair looking like complete opposites of one another. 

Bellatrix has perfect black ringlets that run down to her lower back; her skin is almost ghostly pale from her parents' traditional views and practices of thinking only the poor went in the sun. Her wide red lips and onyx eyes are striking, as is her black velvet dress. The heavy material drapes and ruffles around her waist in a chaotic yet artful mass, the dress clinging to her by its corseted top. She always looks like the most beautiful Dementors Bride, Molly thinks.

While Molly has long red hair and freckled cheeks. She has chestnut-brown eyes and full pouty lips. The pale green linen of her dress embroidered with the smallest and most delicate flowers and Ivy, with a soft brown sweater she had pulled on and belted around her waist. Even with the dress and sweater being a loose fit, she is disappointed she can still see how much her body had developed over the summer. She knows she isn't fat because her Aunt Tessie would have told her otherwise, but her body no longer looks like a gawky teenage girl.

"So, tell me about your summer. Where did you go this year?" Molly asks to distract herself from her thoughts.

"Paris. Dreadfully boring." Bellatrix moans. "All shopping with mummy or meetings with daddy."

"Meetings? What kind of meetings?" Molly's face twists in confusion.

"Daddy is having me attend business meetings with him now. Wants me to understand the real wizarding world." Bellatrix sighs.

Molly chuckles. "And what is the real wizarding world?"

"Dirty and frightening." Bellatrix says. Her gaze far away and lost of all emotion, not sounding like herself at all.

"Bella?" Molly whispers.

Bellatrix blinks like a reptile, all fear glazing over with indifference. "Just another boring summer for the Blacks, I'm afraid. My cousins came to bombard us for a while, pulled Cissy's hair until she got so mad that she made Regulus swell up like a bubble, and he started floating around the room!" She grins as she recounts the tale.

"How on earth did you get him down?" Molly laughs.

"I suggested we stick him with a quill, see if he would pop." 

"Bella!" Molly gapes.

"But in the end, we went up on a broom and used a quick Finité. He was back on the ground in no time." Bellatrix sighs, sounding almost sad the boy didn't pop. 

"Did Narcissa get into any trouble?" Molly wonders aloud as she plays with the hem of her dress.

"No, if anything, our parents were excited she proved she wasn't a squib. I am too, really, the last Black who turned out to be a Squib-"

"Ended up being completely shunned, I know. And at eleven no less." Molly sighs at the cruelty of the Black bloodline that she was a part of. Although her name was Prewett, her mother had been a Black, and that would always be a part of her.

"What classes are you taking this year?" Bellatrix steers the conversation away from family.

"Defense against the dark arts, Herbology, Potions, Arithmancy, Astronomy, and Charms." Molly answers while watching the landscapes fly past them outside. She wonders when the trolley will be by?

"Why aren't you taking Divination?" Bellatrix frowns.

"I don't really want to know the future; I think I'd rather wait for it to happen." She shrugs but knows it's still suspicious. Divination had always been one of her favorites until last year, that is.

Before Bellatrix could question her further, loud shuffling came from the hall.

"Could you be any more obvious, Gideon?" Fabian laughs.

"Shut it!" Gideon shouts and shoves his brother into the small compartment which his sister is already sitting in.

The two girls look at the boys, entirely amused that they still acted all twelve years old as a sixth and seventh year.

"Made yourself comfortable, Bellatrix?" Fabian chuckles.

"Always." She preens. 

The brothers roll their eyes and sit opposite each other. Molly swings her legs off the bench, making room for Gideon. But Bellatrix remains in her place, looking at Fabian with a silent dare.

He shakes his head at her. "You're an absolute pain in my arse, do you know that Black?" He lifts her legs and sits down, allowing her feet to drop into his lap.

"What a wonderful place to be a pain." Bellatrix winks at him, but he only shakes his head again.

It was no news to Molly that Bellatrix was interested in her brother; most girls were. The only thing that made her sad was how obviously disinterested Fabian was and how Bellatrix remained ever persistent.

Molly jumps when something touches her hand. She looks and sees Gideon, her eldest brother, grabbing her hand. He looks worried, and it breaks her just a little bit more than she already is. Her brothers can not worry about her, and they have their own lives to pursue. It's selfish for her to steal even a fraction of their lives. Quickly she swallows down her sorrow and worries for her family's sake.

"Are you alright?" Gideon whispers.

"Of course." Molly nods. "Just tired, is all. I was too excited to sleep last night." She sells the lie with a smile, and far in the back of her mind, she is disappointed that he believes her.

"I know you've missed Bellatrix." He murmurs and casts a sideways glance at the girl who's currently attempting to flirt with Fabian by giving him a light ribbing about his new haircut. "But be careful around her. Mother was kind, but not all Blacks are."

Molly scowls. "So, because her family is questionable, she must be a bad egg?" How dare he, after all she has lost he wishes her to castaway her best friend?

Gideon blanches. "That's not what I meant!" He whispers.

A tapping against the door silences them all. Molly looks up and sees the last person she would ever imagine to come to a compartment full of Prewetts. 

The boy is tall and regal, his face far too angular to be a child's, and his all-black suit made his shock of white hair almost glaring. 

"The hell do you want Malfoy?" Fabian spits.

Malfoy's cold grey eyes flick from one Prewett brother to the other, looking completely unimpressed yet entirely amused. For a moment, he looks at Molly, and she hates herself for it, but she feels her cheeks heat up, Malfoy is very handsome, and not many boys were brave enough to look at her considering her overbearing brothers. But he moves on and finally graces a frown upon Bellatrix.

"Bella, LeStrange is looking for you." He drawls, lazy but not lacking in etiquette.

Bellatrix groans and lets her head hit the wood panel behind her with a thud. She has often been sporadically childish in such ways, so expressive considering how reserved she is by nature.

Fabian laughs. "You and Rodolphus?" 

"Daddy's idea, I'm afraid." The girl huffs. "Even though I loath the whelp."

"Which is why I offered to retrieve you, rather than let him be the bumbling fool that he is." Malfoy says. 

Molly looks over and sees him looking around the compartment with distaste.

"Best I not let you turn the poor lad into a hairpin. Your father would not be pleased with that, now would he?" Malfoy turns a pointed glare at Bellatrix, and surprisingly she concedes.

"Fine!" She shouts and stomps to her feet, but rather than just leave, and she holds out her hand expectantly to Molly.

"What?" Molly asks, confused.

"You're coming with me. I need all the support I can get so that I don't hex the toad." Bellatrix curls her face up at the thought of LeStrange.

Molly chuckles and takes her hand. "Alright."

"You're not going." Gideon says, grabbing Molly's arm.

"And why not?" Molly scoffs.

"You are not going into a car full of Slytherins, alone." Gideon warns.

"I won't be alone." Molly rips her arm free of his grasp.

"You know what he means, Mol. Just listen to him." Fabian sighs.

"Yes, because we Slytherins will surely Avada any Gryffindors on sight and spit roast them over a fire." Malfoy sneers before turning a blank expression to Molly. "If you will follow me, ladies."

Malfoy steps aside, allowing Molly and Bellatrix to file out. With her back to the blonde boy, she does not see the triumphant smirk he throws at the eldest Prewett.

"Molly!" Gideon shouts.

She can hear him getting to his feet; anger boils over inside her. Reaching into the pocket of her dress, she pulls her wand out, swishing it behind her like a deadly whip. While she did not see what happened, she did hear Gideon gasp, followed by a slamming door and glass shattering.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Molly see the Slytherin compartment, plays a dangerous game, gets a little flustered, and reunites with old friends.

The Hogwarts Express has always represented the beginning and end of new memories for Molly. Having left her brothers in a rain of shattered glass in the Gryffindor car felt truly disrespectful to the train itself. She is by no means a violent person; she actually plans to be a Medi Witch and work at St. Mungo's. It is her first nature to be nurturing and healing, never destructive. Though she can not deny how good it felt to be angry, even if only for a mere moment.

She catches Bellatrix eyeing her. "What?" Molly sighs.

"Nothing." Bellatrix quickly shakes her head. "Nothing at all."

"Bella, I've known you my whole life. I know when something is bothering you." It is true, their mothers had grown up together and insisted the two of them be close from a young age. 

"Not bothering, simply inspiring, love." Bellatrix twirls a black curl around her index finger.

A chuckle from behind them makes them pause, Molly gapes. Malfoy is openly grinning, nastily and with bad intentions, but still, she can see the slightest glimmer of true joy in his eyes. 

"That was spectacular, Prewett. I don't think I've heard your brother shriek like that since he took that bludger to the knee last year." His shoulders shift minutely during his controlled laughter.

Did Malloy just show emotion?

"He's quite right." Bellatrix pipes up, beginning to walk again. "I've never seen you so angry. It was rather entertaining."

"Violence is not supposed to be fun." Molly mumbles, more to herself than the others.

"He deserved it, though. He was being a git, and you know it.' Bellatrix tuts.

"He was; I don't know why, though. You and I are friends, he should trust that I'm safe with you." Molly reddens, anger filling her again.

"It was only because of Lucius. Don't worry yourself." Bellatrix picks up her pace as they pass through the Hufflepuff car. 

"I shall take that as a compliment." Malfoy says wistfully as he peers into the Hufflepuff's compartments, most of which are as per usual full of smoke.

Molly longs to join them, find her friend Ponoma and maybe even see if Sybil was around, but knows she would never hear the end of it from Bellatrix. She does not like mingling with other houses; Molly is the one exception.

It is not until the smell of nothing hits her that she realizes they have arrived in the Slytherin car. Dark ebony walls have been lacquered to gleam like glass, marble tables are settled between green velvet tufted benches, each seating arrangement is adorned with a small chandelier overhead. Molly does not realize she has stopped walking until Bellatrix pulls on her arm, the other girl smirks at her.

"Not what you expected." Bellatrix asks as they sit down at a table, Malfoy sitting in front of them.

"Actually, it's quite what I'd imagined." Molly smiles and scoots closer to the window. She always loves watching the countryside as they travel to Hogwarts.

"And what do you make of our den of iniquity?" Malfoy asks, seeming actually curious in his own belittling way.

"I." Molly giggles to herself.

"Sorry to disappoint." Malfoy murmurs and looks away. Although Molly could swear, she saw the faintest smirk on his face.

"Bellatrix!" A nasal-drawn voice shouts from across the car.

"Oh, no." Bellatrix sighs.

Rodolphus LeStrange. While nothing is blatantly wrong with the boy, he has a look in his eyes that makes Molly afraid of ever being left alone with him.

As he sidles up next to Bellatrix, Molly's nose is smacked with the overwhelming odor of his cologne, and she fights the urge to sneeze.

"Rodolphus." Bellatrix gives him a tight smile.

"Where have you been hiding?" He chuckles, though Molly isn't sure why he thinks that was funny.

"Found her in the Gryffindor car, keeping Prewett company." Malfoy nods passively towards Molly.

Rodolphus looks at her, and it sends chills up her spine. 

"Right, Prewett. I am sorry to hear about your mother. Terrible thing." Rodolphus says curtly and rehearsed.

"Thank you, LeStrange." Molly murmurs and turns her attention back to the window.

Why was everything and everyone determined to make her think of her mother? She didn't want to think of her mother. In fact, she needs to think of her brothers. She feels dreadfully guilty for her behavior. Perhaps she should go apologize to them now. After all, they were hurt too, and her lashing out would not help them one bit. Of course, right now, they are probably steaming over her outburst. So, she will wait until they arrive at school, over dinner preferably. Gideon and Fabian are always more agreeable with full stomachs. 

Now, how could she make it up to them? Suppose she can always make them some of her sick potions so they can cut class, though she is not too fond of that idea. The twins only had a year of school left, and any missed lectures might hurt their chances of becoming Aurors. They will be great Aurors, the best in fact, if they do well on their O.W.L. exams. Maybe she can ask Pomona to help her bake something special for the boys; they are more fond of those herbs-

"Prewett."

Molly blinks. Her vision focusing once more on the scenery outside the train, only now realizing they are in a tunnel and she has been staring at pitch blackness. 

Blushing a little, she faces Malfoy. His steel gaze is watching her, in fact studying her, it seems. 

The hard set of his jaw and purse of his lips is oddly a familiar sight for Molly. Though a rival of her brothers', Malfoy has always been around. As one of the noblest pureblood families, the Malfoys are always mingling with other wizarding socialites. Which just so happens to include the Prewetts. She may not act like it, but Molly's father is the fourth richest wizard in the world. First being the Malfoys, second the Blacks, and the third being the Potters.

Because of this status, she had grown up around Bellatrix and Lucius, their fathers ran in the same business circles, and it was only natural that their children should be friends. As a little boy, Lucius had wanted nothing to do with Molly or the twins. He used to push Molly down when she tried to play Quidditch with the others, saying it was only for boys. It was not until they began school that he began to look at her this way, watching her and waiting for something to happen. What he was waiting for, Molly hadn't a clue.

"Yes?" Molly asks him, her voice cracking and forcing her to clear her throat.

"You seemed very distracted." He drawls.

"What's wrong with that?" She huffs and begins drumming her fingers on the table.

"You tend to go to another world when you become distracted. It's a dangerous thing." The way his eyes flick over her is unnerving.

"I do not 'go to another world,' I was only thinking! And honestly, how can thinking be dangerous?" Molly rolls her eyes at the boy.

When he smirks, it eggs on her irritation. "Had you not been lost in your thinking, you would have noticed you've been left all alone."

Molly turns and sees Bellatrix has abandoned her.

Malfoy chuckles, "And according to your brothers, being alone with a Slytherin is very dangerous indeed."

Raising a brow, she pointedly looks him up and down. Taking in his black suit, pale skin, and white hair, the only color emanating from the black and white portrait he paints, being the pink of his sculpted lips. While he is a haunting beauty, he is still that beautiful.

"You're nothing much," She lies. 

Anger flares in him and makes his cheeks prick with color, "Is that so?"

"Yes." She smiles. "In fact, I'd argue that you're less dangerous than a Hufflepuff." The brighter the shade of red he turns, the more she wants to tease. "Honestly, Sprout has me shaking in my boots when I misuse a root's pronoun. You, on the other hand, are far too busy planning comebacks and witty remarks for your next match with my brothers to truly be a fearsome, let alone dangerous individual."

The peevish anger in his sneer, sadly, melts into the most amused smirk. 

"I like this new you Prewett."

She feels her own cool facade twist into annoyance.

"There is no new me; I'm just plain old me. Just Molly!" She huffs.

Malfoy shakes his head. "No, you are anything but just Molly."

What on earth does he mean; Molly wonders. And why is he looking at her like this?

Pointed distaste was one thing, but now he is looking at her with something she can not discern. His leer is playful, his eyes are squinted in utmost seriousness, but his eyes are dilated with promise. The expression makes her face heat up and her heart race in her throat.

"I'm not sure what you mean." She whispers, afraid if she speaks any louder, her voice will waiver.

"You seem less frightened of a row. Usually, you only diffuse, which has a time and place, but I like this side of you. Pushing for a reaction." He drums his finger ideally.

The movement of his long pale fingers catches Molly's attention. Truthfully they always do. For years she has marveled at the elegant way he holds his wand in charms class or the way his fingertips will glide over the pages of a volume from the restricted section. This year, though she sees his slender hands larger than before, she lets herself look at Malfoy fully without abandon.

He is truly handsome, in a way that is unfair to all other boys they attend school with. How he looks like a man as only an adolescent is beyond her. At fifteen, he has a way that he carries himself, something beyond privilege, perhaps closer to entitlement, but that feels too immature a word for his being. Maybe he is just every bit a cunning Slytherin, looks and all. But if Molly digs deep enough into the recesses of her mind, it is his decisiveness that separates him from the rest. The way he knows exactly who he is, what he wants, and how he will get it. No one is as sure as Lucius Malfoy.

Molly jumps again when he clears his throat; she really must stop doing that. She refuses to let herself blush again, no matter the level of charming looks he sends her way. Instead, she decides to agree with him; she has become bolder.

"You've grown taller." 

Finally, he looks surprised. It feels like a win that she did something unexpected to him.

"You were always shorter than Gideon and Fabian. Now it seems you've shot up like ." She comments, though, from the evil twist of his lips, she fears what he has to say.

"Yes, it seems this summer proved to be rather blossoming for the both of us." Lucius's tongue ran over his upper lip, tasting the air.

Molly wants the world to swallow her whole. She was not just blushing; her whole body looked as red as a tomato. A boy has never looked so pointedly at her chest like he is right now, let alone in a way that she might look at a warm meal. 

"Molly!"

The high-pitched squeal makes both fifth years look away from one another. 

Molly tucks a stray lock of hair behind her ear and turns to see Andromeda Black along with Narcissa running up the aisle.

"Dromeda! Cissy!" Molly hops up and hugs the younger girls. "How was your summer?"

"Boring! We missed you!" Andromeda whines and pushes Molly to sit down once more, situating herself on the bench next to her.

Narcissa, looking like a frightened puppy, awkwardly sits on the same bench as Lucius. 

Molly smiles at the younger girl. "Are you excited for your first year, Narcissa?"

The little blonde girl shrugs shyly. 

"Maybe you'll surprise us all and get to be a Gryffindor with me." Molly winks at her.

Narcissa giggles, "A Black in Gryffindor? I don't think so."

"You never know." Molly shrugs.

"She's too sneaky to be anything but a Slytherin." Andromeda laughs. "Never know what this one is up to."

"She's ten; I doubt she can get up too much." Lucius snarks.

Andromeda glares at him. "Why are you sitting with him?"

"Oh, um, Lucius and I were just discussing our summers." Molly coughs, erasing the dryness in her throat. Oh no, did she just call him Lucius out loud? Maybe he did not notice, she hopes.

"Yes, it was quite the time for personal growth, wouldn't you agree, Molly?" He says, and even though he is looking out the window, she can see the humor in the purse of his lips. He most definitely heard her use his name.

"What's that supposed to mean?" Narcissa wonders aloud.

"Absolutely nothing!" Molly says in a rush. "Dromeda, tell me, what classes are you taking?"

Molly distracts herself the rest of the trip by discussing the girls' courses. Andromeda is going into her third year, which means she will be taking her first Care of Magical Creatures class. Besides the core curriculum, she seems to only be taking classes that would normally be preferred by a Hufflepuff. 

"I'm taking a double Herbology class on Tuesday and Thursday. Would you want to study with Pomona and me?" Molly asks.

Andromeda's face lights up, "You mean Sprout, right? The Hufflepuff?" 

Molly nods, curious about the younger girl's excitement.

"That would be great!" Andromeda grins and turns her attention to Narcissa, who is reading a small book of poems.

Molly will need to remember to ask her about this later. For now, her attention is captured by Bellatrix returning with a very frightened Rodolphus in tow.

"Ah! I see you two found her." Bellatrix smiles at her sisters. She leans down and kisses the top of Narcissa's head, causing the little girl to smile up at her big sister.

"Where'd you pop off to?" Molly asks as lightly as she can manage. But the way Rodolphus was looking at Bella was troubling; he looks fearful for his life.

"Just went in search of the trolly. Couldn't find the old bag, though." Bellatrix sighs. "No matter, we should be arriving soon."

As if the train had been listening to the eldest Black daughter, it began to screech to a halt. The group lurched, gripping the table and bench to brace themselves. Molly gasps and shuts her eyes at the shock, her hands landing on the table, she feels someone else's hand land atop her own.

When she feels the train fully stop, she opens her eyes, letting the tension in her dissipate. But her heart leaps into her throat when she sees Lucius's hand is the one on hers. The glinting silver of the Malfoy family ring winks at her, and when she looks up at him, he gives her a parting smirk before he pulls away. Her hand instantly feels colder.

"Right, lets go." Bellatrix says far too chipper and takes her sisters' hands and pulls them to their feet. 

Molly quickly follows, afraid to be left alone with Lucius any longer. She needs to find her brothers.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Don't hate me for making Bellatrix likable. I love her from a writing stand point!


	3. Blissfully Ignorant

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Prewett twins dig a deeper hole for themselves. And friendship grows between two students.
> 
> See the end of the chapter for warnings!

The great hall has always brought such joy to students at Hogwarts; it seems to be a sign of peace for them all. A place where all are welcome, where friends may be reunited, where one feels safe and at home. Whether it be the warmth that endlessly filled the room, the floating candles beneath the charming ceiling, or the familiar house colors, Molly feels at peace here.

“Slytherin!”

Molly grins up at the small blonde girl sitting beneath the withered Sorting Hat. She cannot help but begin clapping and cheering proudly as she watches a relieved Narcissa skip towards the table nestled against the far wall. Her black tie and sash shimmering to emerald green, the Slytherin uniform looking quite right on Cissy. 

The Gryffindors around her clap half-heartedly and murmur a dismal hooray! But the Slytherin House makes everyone know they are proud to welcome the girl, clapping and cheering, the rowdiest you will ever see the cunning is during the sorting ceremony.

Narcissa receives many wide eye stares when she breaks tradition and sits with her sister, Andromeda, rather than towards the front with the other first years. This makes Molly chuckle, and she looks to Bellatrix, who is waiting to meet her gaze. Her unruly friend smiles and shakes her head in amusement.

“Let the feast begin!” Dumbledore announces his smoky voice echoing off the walls of the castle.

Molly turns around on the bench to face her brothers, who sit in front of her. She grins as the food magically appears in front of them. She has always loved the first night back at school, if not purely for she did not have to prepare a meal herself. Which she knows is lazy and selfish, but it becomes so grueling, serving others.

Pulling her burgundy-trimmed cloak sleeves back from her hands, Molly begins to serve herself a variety of decadent dishes. Cutlery clatters and the air is rich in glorious aromas; the hall begins to buzz with chatter. First years and seventh years alike discuss what they dread for this year and miss already from summer.

“So, Molly, looking forward to this term?” 

Molly stops from raising a fork full of potatoes to her mouth and looks up to see a boy wearing a mischievous smirk. She frowns, eyeing the freckled ginger suspiciously.

“As much as any other year, Weasley.” She nods at him curtly before looking back at her plate to eat, but she is stopped short once more.

“That’s swell.” He nods excitedly.

Something about the glimmer in his eyes prevents her from believing he means to be polite. Too hungry to wait for the boy to continue his antics, she takes a bite of her now cool potatoes. As she chews, the Weasley boy decides to speak up again.

“I know I and the other boys are really stressing this year; we’re trying to figure out how we’ll be expected to not only keep our grades up but also handle you.” He waves his fork thoughtfully, and she frowns at him, not quite understanding his meaning. “I mean, talk about having our hands full.” Weasley’s eyes flick over her body, his grin absolutely devilish.

Molly’s cheeks burn red. “I beg your pardon?” She begins to cough, choking on the food she had meant to enjoy. Tears fill her eyes, and her throat burns as she continues to try and catch her breath.

Someone next to her pats her on the back and hands her a goblet of water; she graciously takes it and gulps down her water. She can finally breathe and hear Weasley howling with laughter.

His joy ends abruptly when Fabian reaches over and slaps the boy across the back of his head.

“Oi! What was that for?” Weasley rubs the back of his head and glares at the twins.

“Push off, Bilius. We’ve already told the lot of you, Molly is off-limits.” Gideon says, cooly.

“Especially to you.” Fabian tacks on.

Molly scoffs, off-limits? What is she to them, a restricted volume in the library? This is ridiculous. 

“That’s rubbish!” Bilius argues, unknowingly mirroring Molly’s thoughts. “You know every bloke here is looking at her!” Now he’s lost her.

“Oh, fuck off, Weasley!” Molly orders. 

She thinks Bilius is even more surprised with her outburst than she is, but luckily the boy seems smart enough to shut up. His shaggy ginger hair hiding his eyes when he looks

Whipping her head back to her brothers, she glowers.

“What business is it of yours to claim I am ‘off limits’?” She sneers.

Gideon really has the audacity to roll his eyes at her when he speaks, “We’re your brothers.”

“Exactly!” Molly yells, her blood boiling. “You’re my brothers, not my father! I am not your property to label as you wish. I am your sister, your friend-”

“So, you get to mother us, but we can’t look out for you?” Fabian scoffs.

Molly jerks back, feeling the physical blow of his words. Her throat constricts, and a high-pitched ringing trills in her ears, the equilibrium of her skin prickling and existing as a separate entity from herself. The rage deep within her is icy cold. It eggs her on, daring her to lash out.

“My friends are of a bad sort. I am off-limits to all boys. And now I mother you.” She chuckles; it’s a hollow sound. “Any other revelations you would like to share with me?”

“You’re young, Molly, innocent. Someone needs to look out for you. Protect you from your own ignorance.” Gideon says, and his words cut like knives.

Ignorance? Does he believe she is the ignorant one who needs protection? Has Molly shielded them too much from the happenings of the past few months? They do not seem blissfully ignorant in their mourning as she had hoped they would be; no, they only seem haunted and hateful.

Do they blame her? Have they not realized that they asked her to be their mother, not outright of course, but they always came to her or turned to her. Now because their friends were around, they needed to feel like big men? How dare they?

The disappointment on Gideon’s face is still evident, as is Fabian’s agreement. She does not wish to stoop to their level, this childish display of them trying to appear parental towards her. But that is all this was, some theatrical show of power, so their friends would not tease them that they let their little sister take care of them. Their deep brown eyes, their mother’s eyes, keeps Molly from losing her temper altogether. 

“Fine." Her voice comes out cold, emotionless, and disembodied. "If you truly wish to be men of the house, go ahead, be my guest. Know that will start with any time either of you returns in the middle of the night bruised and bloodied; you can heal yourselves. Next, you will need to write out all of father’s letters so that he only needs to sign them; you can do that after you stay up all night to make sure he hasn’t drunk himself to death. Don’t forget to meet with the bankers, the solicitors, and the relatives. Arrange for mother’s burial and make sure the Medi Witches who took care of her are invited to the service. She would have wanted them to be there. Then have someone cleanse her room; no, that will be too personal. It feels wrong, and father won't like anyone in there. So, you two will need to go in. Launder the bedding that our mother laid on when she took her last breath. It may help to hum or sing; even if it annoys others in the house, it will drown out the sound of mother’s wailing and sobbing that neither of you had to hear because she wished not to burden her boys. But, oh no, it's too late for you to do any of that.” She takes a deep breath, looking from Gideon and then to Fabian. Both boys are pale; at any other time, it would worry her. “You think I'm ignorant? Best you think on that.”

“Mol,” Fabian croaks.

Molly gets to her feet, she flattens the pleats of her skirts with a brush of her palms. She can feel every Gryffindor’s gaze on her, but she cannot bring herself to care about what they might think of her. After all, the Prewett family has no pride any more, not when each member is so broken.

“Father requires four letters to be written and owled to him tonight. I will put a note of what they will need to contain in your room.” Molly says flatly, not bothering to look at her brothers before she steps over the bench and begins the awkward walk across the Great Hall.

Her breathing is echoing in her ears; whether it’s due to residual anger or anxiety, she’s unsure. Because where before, only her house was staring, now everyone is watching Molly. The fifth-year girl in Gryffindor's robes, walking towards the Slytherin table.

Bellatrix has a silver plate in her hand and is piling it high with food. Molly is not sure if it is by coincidence or on purpose, but the seat to Bella’s left is empty, so she steps over the bench and leans into her friend’s side. 

Bellatrix smiles with wide red lips and puts the plate in front of Molly.

“Thank you.” Molly sighs, gratefully smiling and digging in.

“Why did your brothers decide to spoil dinner of all times?” Bellatrix smirks.

“Not a clue,” Molly grumbles, already halfway through her potatoes and roast. She hears her friend chuckle and feels her hug her side before returning to her own meal.

It’s easy for Molly to focus on her plate, calming herself. Thinking of anything but her brothers would be welcome at this moment, she thinks with her last bite of the roast. 

“Are you alright?”

The aristocratic drawl comes from her left, and when she looks up, she sees a familiar face.

“Malfoy.” She smiles politely at him, her melancholy from the evening’s events keeping her butterflies at bay. “Yes, I’m alright.”

He raises his brow at her, doubting her. “If you say so.”

“I do.” She nods, fiddling with her fork and counting the minutes till they are sent to their dormitories.

Long pale fingers move into her line of sight, and she sees Lucius pushing a silver chalice towards hers. She looks at him, frowning with a silent question on her face.

He shrugs, “You look like you could use that.” He leans in closer, dropping his voice even lower than he usually speaks. “Drink slowly, it’s rather strong.”

Molly stares at him, disbelieving but also curious. Why is he being so kind? Maybe it’s poison.

She reaches for the cup and brings it to her lips; he smirks at her almost challengingly. When she takes a tentative sip, she is pleasantly surprised by the familiar taste and burn of Fire Whiskey. 

He was right; she does need this. Taking a decent size gulp, she lets the liquor warm her, soothe her in ways she’s not able to achieve any other way. 

“Odd little thing, aren’t you?” Lucius snickers.

“My father only drinks Fire Whiskey, and I became quite familiar with the drink myself this summer.” Molly looks into her cup, swirling the contents and watching the liquid spin around.

“And you think you’re still just Molly?” He shakes his head, tutting at her. A slight sits on the tip of her tongue but dies immediately when he shifts ever so slightly, making their bodies touch from hip to toe.

She tilts her head at him, taking another heavy gulp from her cup. “Comfortable, Lucius?”

Molly swears his eyes darken, and his smirk falls away. He looks earnest. "Oh, quite so."

Her body has never touched so much of another person, not like this. A friendly embrace or a scuffle amongst siblings, but never with the pretense of flirting. It would be a lie if Molly were to say she disliked it because, in fact, she loves it. This hidden touch, with layers of clothes separating them, makes her feel special somehow. As if this hidden moment is a secret that Lucius is trusting her with. And she won't ever forget this small insignificant moment that is probably nothing special to him but truly everything to her at this moment.

"Who are you, Lucius?" Molly sighs.

"I'm not sure I understand the question." 

“Are you the boy I’ve known all my life? Posh and rude?” She leans forward, eyeing him analytically. “Or are you someone new? Someone none of us will ever truly know?”

His pale pink lips quirk up on the sides, “Perhaps a bit of both, Molly.”

She laughs, more than she ought to. But his light-hearted flirting makes her forget the rest of the world. Molly turns away from him, grinning, but even when she speaks with Bellatrix, she can still feel his leg flush against her own. It is definitely the whiskey making her so bold, but she cannot help herself. He is being kind, and he is quite attractive, he will be a good friend to have around in these times.

Molly joins in with conversation around her, her side never leaving the boy’s own. She does not see Lucius stare at her lips every time she wets them with the tip of her tongue. Nor does she see the murderous glares of her brothers from across the hall, death threats on their lips every time Malfoy makes Molly laugh.

For once in her life, Molly Prewett remains, purposefully, blissfully ignorant.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WARNING: Themes of underage drinking, possessiveness, past trauma, and alcoholism

**Author's Note:**

> Hey everyone! Thanks for reading the first chapter of "Molly". 
> 
> Please know that all original characters will end up where they do in Harry Potter series, I am only doing a retelling of how they get there.  
> This is not a Marauders series.
> 
> I have modified Bellatrix & Lucius' ages to be the same as Molly's.
> 
> Anything that could not be confirmed canon I decided to fill in the blanks and take you all on an adventure. While this may be the road less traveled I can promise you that little Ickle-Ronnie-Kins will be born and fathered by Arthur Weasley.
> 
> I do not own the rights to these characters.


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